Taivon: Book Three of the Cantrell Brothers Series

Chapter Eleven

“You ready to go?”

Alix looked to where Taivon was standing by the door. He wore his usual jeans, boots, and that jacket. His stance was a little less tense than when he'd arrived – legs shoulder-width apart, back ramrod straight, one hand in his pocket, and long fingers playing with his keys.

“Should I bring anything?” she asked.

Taivon gave her a tight smile before looking at something behind her. “Just you.”

“Okay. Good.”

“On second thought, maybe something that'll make your cat stop hating me.”

Turning around, she saw Chief slowly creeping towards her. His eyes – if it were possible – narrowed at her and then at Taivon and back again. A low hiss escaped his mouth, ears flat to his head as he all but climbed up her leg and jumped into her arms.

She pet his furry head. “What's wrong, kitty?”

“I think he hates me.”

“Do you have a dog?” Alix walked over to Taivon.

He gulped, taking a step backward until his back met the wall. “When I was younger.”

“But not anymore?”

Chief hissed and wriggled around in her arms until both his front paws were on her shoulder and his whiskers were rubbing her cheek. Stroking him, she kissed his head and took a step closer to Taivon. Once again, her kitty hissed, moving until almost all of him was resting on her shoulder.

“No.” Taivon shook his head. “Not anymore. I think Chief just doesn't like me. Maybe it's my hair or something. Haven't got it cut in such a long time.”

She looked at his thick, brown hair and short beard. The collection of strands were split at the ends, looking glossy in her apartment light. Her hands itched to run their fingers through the expanse. She could do it right now, in fact. Just a little reach would be all it took, and she'd be touching his hair.

She'd never been so caught up in something as simple as hair.

“I like your hair.”

“Really?” That same word popped out of his mouth, as if he didn't believe her.

“No, I'm lying to you.” She grinned, lacing her voice with as much sarcasm as she could.

Taivon frowned. “You are?”

His question had her looking up at him, to see if he was actually serious. His brow was furrowed, and his eyes held so much sadness that it hurt to look at him. He really didn't understand. The man was serious – and hurting. She didn't know why, but she felt the sudden need to shield him from all things bad in the world.

“Hey,” Alix said, softly, putting Chief down, “you feeling alright?”

His lower lip trembled. Eyes looked away. He said, “Fi-ine.”

“Are you sure? You want some Tylenol?”

“No. Thanks. I'm good. Just a little bit of a headache is all.”

He smiled, but it was shaky. Nothing at all like the grin she'd seen just a week ago. Alix knew that his grins were far and few between, but still, even his constant half-smiles were better than this watery attempt.

“Ya wanna head out?”

“Sure,” she said.

After closing the door, Alix took his hand in hers and walked with him. The light breeze blew across her face, fresh, crisp, and clean. With it came Taivon's scent. The woodsy pine and soap smell shouldn't have been so familiar or so comforting, but it was, and she found herself leaning against him as they neared his waiting SUV.